Without A Nation
by Boom-Rhapsody
Summary: A crash left them stranded, halted in the search of a decent Earth Bender. But the Avatar and his friends are not the only one caught up in the storm’s wake. As the Fire Nation encroaches on more and more territory, can the help of a reclusive tribe and i
1. Unwanted Waves

**A/N:** Okay, don't own Avatar: Last Air bender, or Nickelodeon for that matter. This is original, and here's the full summary.

A crash left them stranded, halted in the search of a decent Earth Bender. But the Avatar and his friends are not the only one caught up in the storm's wake. As the Fire Nation encroaches on more and more territory, can the help of a reclusive tribe and its protective leader help the Avatar defeat the Fire Nation?

Pairings: OC, Zuko?(prolly Katara)

**Without A Nation**

**Part one:Caught in the Storm's Wake**

Chapter One: Unwanted Waves 

The storm came suddenly, without warning and soon unrelenting. The rain poured not in buckets but torrents, as if trying to drown the earth. The winds howled as they traded ocean for land. All life stopped its thoughts and instinct sough for shelter.

Iroh sipped on his tea gratefully, staring at the fire for a moment. Taking a quick glance around the hut, he sighed. It was large, with a main room and two rooms off to each side. There was also a deck of sorts outside. Within though, it boasted of tribal art that hung on the walls, as well as various weapons. The fire pit in the center of the room provided warmth that soothed. Incense thrown into the blaze elicited calm from the spirit, no matter how troubled.

Iroh then looked at the old friend that sat across the fire, also sipping on tea. He kept his white hair in a low ponytail, beard thin but long, mustache to accompany it. His dark, hindering eyes stared into the fire, the flames flickering back in his irises. Wearing tradition black clothing, one arm, his bow arm, bandaged from palm to shoulder, was bare and open to the world. A staff rested at his side, one that bore notches and threads and other decorations. At the end, it was larger, a club. The round, smooth surface was darkened, and not by age.

_Atobai._

"So, Iroh," Atobai said conversationally; "What brings you here? Surely you do not bring word that war has finally reached us…"

"No, no, war shall never reach this place," Iroh said with a laugh, half-hearted but heartfelt none the less.

"Then please, retell you story to me…"

Iroh sighed; "Zhao has finally vanished, but not without great cost. My brother, Lord of the Fire Nation, is furious. He has blamed my nephew. For the past month, I… _we_, have been running. Running away from certain death, but these old bones of mine cannot take much more," he added jokingly; "The Army did catch up, though, while I was in town purchasing supplies. Zuko was alone, and handled well for himself. He cannot go out into the public, as you know, for his scar… well anyway, he had managed well, but when I reached the scene, he was badly burned and beaten. I quickly purchased the means of travel, and sough for you…"

"But why, old friend? There were so many places…" Atobai said with a sigh, clearly displeased that, although Iroh was a trusted friend, his small village was now at risk for harboring such a fugitive.

With another small sigh, Atobai said; "Where is he?"

Iroh smirked; "Outside. He won't come in."

Atobai nodded, setting his tea down carefully before rising. Picking up his staff he walked to the front and pushed back the flap. The young Prince was sitting on the deck, beneath the awning, glaring into the distance. He was burned in several places, mostly his arms, his bare chest. His clothing was singed and he was bleeding… And he sat there, silent, not a tear that fell from his eyes as he stared off.

Atobai's brow furrowed in disappointment and brief pity as he carefully studied Zuko. Strong, but beaten, he sufficed. _And such a foolish young man_, he thought as he walked over; "Stand up."

Zuko looked up at the old man defiantly. "What?" he asked.

In a flash the staff had whacked his shoulder, a burn. Zuko turned away and hissed, overcome for a moment;" Stand. Up." Atobai replied; "Or must I help you?"

"Leave me," Zuko said hoarsely.

"Leave you? I would want nothing more," Atobai said, and this caused Zuko to look up; "You are a threat to my tribe, Zuko," Atobai said quietly, reverently; "Your father has sought after me for decades. Finding this haven now… it would mean death to too many. But your uncle is a dear friend, and I trust him. Therefore I trust you, and now, I am going to get you help for your wounds."

The old man held out a thin, scarred hand. "Trust has nothing to do with compassion," Zuko said bitterly as he helped himself up. He swayed, wobbled on his good foot, and Atobai held out his staff for the young man to grasp. Zuko did and steadied.

"Ah, it has everything to do with Compassion, Zuko," He explained; "_I_ trust that _you_ will never tell a soul of this place. _You_ trust that _I_ will help you and not kill you instead. It is this unconscious trust that sparks relative compassion. I pity you, anyways," he said as he turned, intent on reentering the hut.

"I don't need pity!" Zuko said angrily, water evaporating off of his skin.

Slowly, calmly, Atobai turned and faced the Prince again; "Zuko, here you are no Prince of any nation. You are Zuko, an injured young man with a head full of steam and a heart full of fire. Now, you will respect me for I am countless years older than you. Now, let us go inside. The rain is not letting up, and this weather is poor for your situation."

Atobai held the flap open as Zuko hobbled in, fuming still. Iroh cast a wary glance at Atobai as he led Zuko to a side room, but the old man merely nodded slightly.

"I will find a healer for you," Atobai said as he exited the side room. The door slid shut behind him without a reply from Zuko. He sat down, placed his staff on the floor at his side, and picked up his tea again, as if nothing had happened.

"Well… when will you get a healer?" Iroh asked.

"My granddaughter will be coming home soon, Iroh, and she may tend to him," Atobai explained; "She would be the only one who could handle him, anyway."

"I did not know you had a granddaughter, Atobai, or any children for that matter…"

"I did have a daughter, and a wife, once," Atobai explained; "but this silly war takes everything from everyone, does it not?"

Iroh looked away with guilt. He had no idea his old friend had been so horribly affected by the war. Now, looking at Atobai again, he saw the pain, and knew his wrongs to be tenfold his last imagining.

"I'm deeply mortified by my Nation's actions, Atobai," he said reverently.

"Which is why you have sided with your nephew," Atobai said wisely as he sipped his tea; "But no, my granddaughter sought for me when her parents were killed. She has been here since she was 12, and is sixteen now."

"Hmm… Zuko is sixteen," Iroh mumbled absently.

"Zuko is head strong and too analytical," Atobai said; "He would make an impressive Lord."

"Yes, he who would be King," Iroh said; "You do know he has a sister?"

"No, I had no idea."

* * *

Aang was trying to control the air around them, a safe bubble in the middle of this sudden storm. Katara and Sokka held on, helpless. Once again, he was the one to save them. Not that Aang cared, it was his duty. But right now, being the Avatar was not an upstanding title.

Appa let out a shrill moan as the water stung at his eyes. Aang had let a window open in the bubble, and the bison was suffering; "Appa, yip yip!" Aang said loudly, though his voice betrayed his inner anxieties.

Katara held the reigns though they did little in controlling the great bison;" Aang, we need to land!" she screamed, just as Appa took a nose dive.

Aang lost his balance and the bubble of protective air was gone. Suddenly the weather rushed them and they were caught. Appa let out a distressing call before plummeting, hoping not to land in the water and risk drowning.

There was a forest; Sokka could make it out through the rain and sleet. Making his way to the front, he grabbed the reigns and desperately tried to steer. He glanced at his sister. Katara was clutching both Aang and Momo and at the same time holding onto the side of the large saddle. With renewed motivation Sokka pulled on the reigns.

But it was too late…

And they crashed.

* * *

Iroh nodded; "If Zuko does not bring the avatar to my brother, then he is forever banished and Zula will take over."

"Really?" Atobai said with casual interest, not really caring. The situations regarding the fire nation concerned him little, unless the situation involved his tribe.

Iroh nodded again. He was about to speak when someone came bursting through the door. It could have been no one else other than Naomi. She wore primarily black clothing. A shirt that dipped down and hung loosely around her shoulders like a shawl, bandages tinted mauve that started above her breasts. Her arms past her elbow to her palms were bandaged as well with the same fabric. She wore a black skirt and black pants, along with black boots. She held a staff in her hand with the remnants of a jagged blade. Her long, dark brown hair hung past her shoulders, with two braids with ribbons woven into them. Behind her bangs were dark blue eyes that shone with a fiery passion unbridled by the irises.

"Grandfather!" she gasped, obviously out of breath.

"What?" Atobai asked concernedly, rising at the fear in his granddaughter's voice.

"There has been an accident!" Naomi continued, gathering her composure.

"An Accident? Where? With who?" Atobai now feared the worst of someone, judging from her state.

"No one of our knowing! There are three people injured, a girl and two boys. Plus a Bison, and a lemur!" she added; "The boy, the youngest… he had such a strange tattoo, grandfather!"

"Has a party been sent out?"

Naomi shook her head; "I came across them on my way back," she said; "I came straight to you," she stood up to whisper in his ear; "I fear it may be the Avatar, grandfather."

Atobai's eyes narrowed. That was not what he wanted to hear. Walking over he picked up his staff; "Naomi," he said lowly; "In the left room, there is a young man in need of your abilities. He is burned and fatigued."

"Grandfather…" Naomi said slowly, finally taking the time to see Iroh.

"Hello," Iroh said, bowing his head as he rose; "I am Gen'ral Iroh of the…"

"I know who you are," the girl all but spat with disdain; "what is he doing here?" she asked, looking at Atobai for answers.

"He is an old friend, Naomi," Atobai explained as he donned on a cloak; "Go tend to his nephew."

Naomi's jaw dropped; "PRINCE ZUKO!" she asked incredulously; "Let him die!" she said bitterly; "I don't care how bad…"

Swiftly Atobai's staff came and hit Naomi's leg, sending her to her knees; "Such talk, Naomi," Atobai said scornfully "what were you taught?"

"He's fire nation!" Naomi insisted heatedly; "I won't be caught in the same hut with any of them! None!"

"Naomi, I command you to help the boy in that room!" Atobai nodded, then he turned to Iroh; "Excuse my granddaughter of her rudeness. We do not receive guests often," he looked at Naomi and pointed his staff in the direction of the room, and then left the hut.

Naomi stood there fuming, her hands gripping her staff so tightly her knuckles turned white. She glared at Iroh, who sat by the fire drinking his tea innocently, and then glanced at the door. Sighing, she walked over to a shelving unit, picked up a large chest, and walked over to the room to tend to Zuko.

* * *

Zuko had heard the yelling, it had woken him from his unsettled slumber. With a groan he tried to roll over, but the burn on his back would not allow it. With a hissing groan he glared at the wall, incapable of anything else. He listened to the argument, heard the girl's obvious contempt for him… but what had he done to her? He had never harmed anyone, unless they had been in his way of the Avatar…which seemed a pointless chase at the moment, Zuko figured.

Already it had become evident that his father felt little for his son and had replaced him in his quest for the Avatar. In reality, Zuko was already dead to his only remaining bloodline. His sister never counted; she had never considered him a sibling and in turn, he had never recognized her of her blood status. The only family he had was his Uncle Iroh, and though he did not show it well, he cared a good deal for his uncle.

Zuko closed his eyes and exhaled heavily, blowing steam through his nostrils. The door opened then and he feigned sleep, controlling his chest to rise and fall slowly. Footsteps like light breezes graced past him, and something firm and heavy was placed on the floor some feet away. Soon he smelt fire, could feel its energy dancing about in the flames, and it soothed him a great deal. Zuko sighed, willing himself to relax.

* * *

Naomi glanced at the wounded back of the Fire Prince. She felt nothing but contempt for the young man, and yet she could not bring her self to glare. She saw nothing more than a wounded soldier now, someone in need of her help. Silently she opened up the chest and removed several herbs and vials, and a small cauldron. Balancing it on a small rack above the fire, she then poured water into it. For a moment she let the water boil, and then took the cauldron off of the fire. Pouring some of the steaming contents into a bowl, she then emptied a vial, and then drained the water slowly, letting it evaporate in the flames. She then ground up herbs and added them into the concoction, by now beginning to hum a distant lullaby she had learned from her mother.

Zuko heard the lullaby and a distant memory was brought to the surface of his thoughts. He felt carried, rocked, soothed, nestled between the crook of an arm and the heart of a mother. The voice he heard was soon replaced by one long ago lost to death. Bitterly Zuko willed it away.

"Would you stop that?" he asked irately, and silence was his reply.

For a moment; "Stop what?" Naomi retorted, picking up the bowl and several rolls of bandages before heading over to Zuko.

"That infernal humming," Zuko grumbled, feeling the weight of Naomi kneeling beside his back. "What are you doing?" he asked, turning his head around to look at her.

Naomi looked up and stared at the golden eye for a moment, "Helping you," she replied, and Zuko looked away.

"You don't want to," he muttered. He hissed at the coolness of the salve, the concoction Naomi had just created. But soon the pain of the contact subsided, and his burn was numb.

"Who did this to you?" Naomi asked quietly, having never seen burns so severe. They had reached muscle, though only in one spot she could see.

Zuko averted his gaze, despite the fact that she couldn't see his face; "Soldiers," he said quietly.

Naomi nodded as she placed a bandage; "You'll have to sit up for a moment. Are you able?"

Zuko didn't reply. He sat up, precariously on his lower arm, and the pushed off the ground. But as he began to fall from fatigue, gentle hands caught his side, and helped him up. Naomi supported his weight by leaning him against her gently, and wrapped his torso with bandages.

"No one deserves this," Naomi muttered angrily as she continued to dress Zuko's wounds; "Not even you."

"What's that supposed to mean!" Zuko snapped, finding the strength to sit up on his own, and turn to face the girl. He glared at her heatedly.

She matched his gaze with a glare of her own. "Look at you," she said; "Think of who you are, and ask me that again."

"What's. That. Supposed. To. Mean?" Zuko repeated, slowly but not giving space for thought. Why should he?

"Just like Hell Fire," Naomi said with a sad shake of her head as she rose.

She left her things and exited the room, closing the door and leaving Zuko to himself. He glared at the door, where she had exited. Already he hated her. How dare she speak to him like that! It wasn't attractive, such blatant audacity and disrespect. But what she had said last echoed in his mind, and it puzzled him.

"Hell Fire," he breathed, letting it roll off his tongue with his exhale.

It fit him perfectly.

* * *

Atobai led the search party deeper into the forest, holding his cloak up to block the stinging rain. His cloak protected his torch, and others mimicked him. Silently they made their way through the dense underbrush, masters at the act. The call of a wounded bird signaled to the group that the crash had been found. Atobai turned left and went straight, quickly coming upon a group that stood around, waiting for him. Here, the branches were so thick it blocked the rain to a great degree, and Atobai lowered his cloak. Quickly he signed for the party to fan out, and to be cautious. When he was left alone, he turned, and saw the crash.

Atobai stepped out of the thick woods, allowing his torch to be killed by the fresh onslaught of rain. He studied the bison for a moment, and found it alive and breathing. Approaching closer, he found the body of a young man, possibly sixteen, in blue clothing. _Water Nation_, Atobai thought indifferently as he wiped rain from his eyes. Signally two men from the forest, they carefully picked the boy off and carried him to the village. Not far away lay a girl, possibly the boy's sister, clutching an unconscious lemur. He did the same for her as he had for the boy.

Atobai finally came across the person he sought after. Half-buried under foliage, have exposed to the elements, was the bruised form of the Avatar. _Oh he's just a boy_, Atobai thought, surprised at the boy's age. _He is so tenderly young_… Atobai knew his childhood had been stolen from him. _Such a heavy burden_, the old man thought as he picked up the Avatar—no, the _child_—himself, carefully placing him on his back, like giving Aang a piggy-back ride.

Swiftly Atobai began to leave the scene, but the same call of a wounded bird had him turning around and returning. Several men had gathered around the bison, which had now begun to waken.

"What do we do with this creature?" a man asked Atobai.

"Bring it to the village!" Atobai replied over a loud crack of lightening; "I must take this child before he catches a fever!"

"Is that the Avatar?" someone shouted.

Atobai did not want to answer. But he did so reluctantly; "I'm not sure," he said, then turning, he left.

* * *

**TBC (_maybe_?)**

* * *

A/N: Well? What'd yall think? Please review! 


	2. Recovery

**A/N:** Okay, don't own _Avatar: Last Air bender_ or Nickelodeon for that matter.

I've drawn and_ redrawn_ Naomi. The link is in my **profile**!

**Without A Nation**

**Part one: Weakness**

Chapter Two: Recovery

Humming, he heard humming. It was distant, echoing, and unclear. He tried to open his eyes, but if he had he only saw a fuzzy darkness. A ceiling, maybe? Possibly, but then how had he gotten there? The last thing he had remembered was rain, a futile attempt at maintaining control, and then a crash. A tree limb… it had hit his head, and his chest. That would explain the pain across his sternum… had he broken something? He ached, all over. He wanted to cry, but then he didn't. it seemed pointless. Sokka, where was Sokka? And Momo and Appa, and Katara… where were they? Had they survived? Was he alone? He had so many questions and his brain could not come up with answers.

The humming was gentle and soft, becoming clearer the more Aang focused on it. Soon, the sense of someone touching him registered, and he weakly opened one eye. A girl was tending to the scratches he'd received from the crash. She was the source of the humming, and he didn't mind. IT was soothing, and brought some form of peace within the Avatar. Perhaps it was a chant, or a charmed lullaby?

"Where…" Aang began, but his throat was sore and words seemed too grand a hassle.

"Shh, you're safe, Avatar," the girl said, smiling at him; "I'm Naomi. You crashed in the forests, and the men of my village brought you here. The two others you were traveling with are safe. You've been unconscious for a time…" the explanation was hushed and gentle.She began humming again, and dipped her finger in a dark concoction before drawing a quick pattern over Aang's aching sternum.

Instantly he felt that area grow numb, and the pain was gone. Aang's eyes grew wide and his hand went to it, but before he could touch anything, Naomi's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist; a gentle grasp, but firm. Wordlessly he looked up at her sudden silence. She was serious, her eyes anxious but steady with something Aang could not recognize.

"Don't touch it until it dries," she said calmly, beginning to put away her things in a chest; "It's a symbol… to ward off the pain. But when it begins to disappear, and you begin to ache, come to me and I will replace it."

"O...K?" Aang replied, beginning to sit; "Where… where am I?" he asked, looking around.

"In a hut, out of the rain," she replied; "Where else would you be?"

Aang lay back down; "Where… where are…"

"They're safe and well, Avatar," the girl said; "Rest."

She seemed so considerate, so kind. Aang nodded and smiled lightly, his eyelids fluttering. The girl began to hum again, and he felt calm. It seemed so familiar, yet so distant. Desperately he clung to the feeling he was experiencing, mentally grappling with his will. But sleep overcame him, and, with a sigh, the Avatar fell deep into the darkness of slumber.

* * *

Once more Atobai found himself by the fire, sipping his tea. And though it had grown cold in his absence he continued to drink it. His brow furrowed and obviously deep in thought, he was troubled by a sudden onslaught of thought. Suddenly he had too many people in his village. There was Prince Zuko, his Uncle, Iroh, and then there was the Avatar… Atobai sighed at the thought of the child.

How was he able to handle such a burden, such a title? At times Atobai had difficulty aiding in the leadership of the village, and managing his granddaughter; he could not imagine being anything remotely close to the Avatar… Atobai was not one for too much pressure. After living a life of stress and running and battle, he had "retired". Though War and killing was his business, now he chose to rescue and help. But the Avatar, though a blessing to the world, was a potential curse to those he was with. The two young Water Tribesmen, they must have evaded death countless times. Naomi risked death just as much as they did, though, he thought absently, randomly.

"I suppose you are thinking of your sudden burdens, Atobai?"

Atobai looked up and saw Iroh looking at him knowingly, one eyebrow raised. Atobai sighed; "Now you mind read as well as Fire bend, old friend?"

Iroh delighted himself with a small chuckle; "You are an easy man to read," he replied; "You are a good soul though, for taking in so many."

"Where else would they go?" Atobai asked; "I would rather they be here than anywhere, in such conditions."

"Yes, well, I fear that with Zuko's injuries, we may be here for a time," Iroh said, looking down.

"Fret not, Iroh," Atobai said; "Company is quite the countenance for absence. But since you are here I would like to ask a word of advice."

"Advice, eh?" Iroh said, smiling; "I'm all ears."

Atobai laughed half-heartedly; "What am I to do? I have little experience in handling such situations; I'm not good with such things like I once was."

Iroh sipped on his tea; "You managed fairly well from what I can remember."

"War has ruined my mind, Iroh," Atobai said quietly, looking at his cup of tea; "Now, my thoughts mingle together, I have trouble with deciding. Things take time now, I am not so quick since…" his voice faded with brief recollection, hand drifting to the side of his head. Then his hand fell and Atobai coughed; "Simply stated, sometimes my granddaughter makes decisions when I cannot."

Iroh remembered his last time seeing Atobai. They were both in the grips of battle, no surprise back then. It was the 467th day of siege the great Earth Kingdom city of Ba Sing Se. The evening was cold and unforgiving, and Iroh had decided to retreat to a quiet place to compose his thoughts. It was there that he had found Atobai arguing with one of the lesser commanders. Atobai had been expressing his simple request to see an old friend, Iroh, but the fire nation commander would have none of it. He hit Atobai once in the face, a swift punch, but Atobai refused to strike back for he found it an unnecessary waste of energy and expense. He did not want to hurt the young man, he said. Taking it to offense that Atobai was pitying him, the commander attacked again, with a club. He hit Atobai in the back of the head, but before Atobai could hit the ground Iroh had used his firebending to kill the commander for the deed. He had then gathered Atobai and carried him to the nearest medical tent. The news had not been so good. The attack had cracked Atobai's skull, and damaged his brain. He would live, but with consequences.

Apparently Iroh was seeing those consequences.

"You have improved, though," Iroh said, but he sighed; "What decision are you having trouble with?"

Atobai sighed; "I'm not so sure… anymore…" he said desperately, sipping his tea again; "There are so many things. The festival, the Avatar, your nephew…"

"What's Zuko done?" Iroh asked, suddenly protective of his nephew.

"It is not what he has done, but what he has yet to _do_," Atobai said; "I fear he may once again be blinded by his desperation once he sees the Avatar…"

"Come again?"

"He wants to please his father, obviously that is his motivation," Atobai explained; "Why else would he pursue a twelve-year-old?"

"_One hundred and twelve_ year old, "Iroh corrected, and Atobai rolled his eyes.

"He's a _child_, Iroh, not even an adolescent!" he said; "Why would such a thing be burdened with so much? I doubt the other Avatars faced such tribulations at such a tender age."

"I doubt the same, but it is happening now," Iroh said; "Perhaps he should stay, gather his nerves? Perhaps you could teach him a thing or two…"

"I have nothing to offer the boy," Atobai said; "What I am capable of doing is of no real use..."

"What you are capable of is something extraordinary," Iroh said. He was about to add to the conversation, when Naomi exited one side room and closed the door. She set her things own, then straightening up, realized how quiet the room actually was. She looked at her grandfather and instantly knew he was going through one of his spells.

"Grandpa?" she asked quietly, briefly reverting to childhood worry.

Atobai looked at his daughter and smiled; "No need for worry, Naomi," he said kindly as he patted the pillow beside him, offering her a seat. "I am fine."

Naomi sat down, a worried hand on his shoulder for but a moment. "Perhaps you would like to entertain our guest with a story?" Atobai asked, he himself looking forward to one of his granddaughter's tales.

Naomi blushed; "I really think I should turn in, Grandpa," she said, rising; "Perhaps another time?" she said.

"Check on Zuko though, if you would," Atobai said, and Naomi nodded.

Naomi rolled her eyes in dismay though, before opening the door and stepping in. She saw Zuko sitting up, staring into the fire. Wordlessly, Naomi went and sat down beside him, for a time wondering what he could possibly be thinking about. Well, she could come up with several things. She was not deaf and stupid; she knew his past and his fate.

And she sympathized. What would be gained, by her anger towards Zuko? Nothing but more anger. There was a useless quality to her nature.

"Tomorrow, if you are able… you will walk with me."

Her whisper was quiet, a breath of air. Zuko closed his eyes and sighed. He knew he would be strong and well again when the sun rose, it was just his nature to take strength from such a star. Perhaps he would sleep in? But even that seemed unlikely. He was too connected to the Sun. now what he bragged about he was ashamed of.

"I will show you something and make you realize just how pointless this is."

At this, Zuko looked at the insolent girl. She spoke with such reverence, such peace, and her voice was steady and quiet. What did she mean by "this"? This war, this life, this purpose? What?

"What do you mean by that?" he asked slowly, his eye narrowing.

Naomi looked at him; "Tomorrow you will know," she said as she got up, and his eyes followed her; "Sleep well, Hell Fire."

And he watched her go in silence, glaring at her retreating for mall the while thinking; _What the hell is with that name? _

* * *

In fact the Prince did wake up to the sunrise, much to his "delight". HE rolled over and attempted to doze off again, but could not. With a sigh he sat up, and saw a stack of clothing neatly placed at the edge of his mat. Reaching over, he realized that they were like the ancient warriors wore; baggy, soft fabrics and wide sleeves, composed also with a belt good for tucking things in.

And they were black.

_What was it with this color?_ Zuko thought as he stood and began to get dressed. It was difficult, getting his arm through the sleeve, but he gritted his teeth. When he had finished he took stock of his surroundings to see if anything else was different, and to his surprise, there was. A sling hung from a wall on a nail. Grateful for its presence, Zuko used it. Finally with a sigh, he walked to the door. Walking seemed a tad difficult, but once more he gritted his teeth and bore the annoyance.

Opening the door, he poked his head out to find the main room empty. The fire still crackled in the pit, but there was no steaming pot to obscure the smoke. Following the thin grey trails, Zuko saw them exit through a vent in the roof. He stepped out, and tripped over something. Catching himself and straightening up, Zuko turned to see it was a pair of sandals. On them was a note. Bending down, Zuko sat to put on the sandals, and read the note:

_I left at dawn, and I hope you found everything I had left for you. Iroh and Grandfather have gone to tour the village. I should be back soon. Please be quite for there are other guests. Stay near the house. Wouldn't want you getting lost…_

And the girl had signed it at the bottom, hurried like her script. Zuko rolled his eyes and stood up, wadding the note and then incinerating it. He let the ashes fall and then walked outside. The smell of rain and earth hit his senses and overwhelmed him for a moment. Why did it smell so pure? He breathed in deeply, looking around. The hut was nestled on the side of a hill, built into it, and he realized that there were others of the same nature. The hut was larger compared to some, equal to others. There were sloping paths that were visible but weren't; merely flattened grass and stone markers. The forest surrounded them; the village was simply nestled in a clearing.

Zuko saw a stuffed mat off to the side, and with a heavy sigh he sat down and folded his arms together to wait. What else could he do? He occupied himself with watching the activities of the Village. Not many people were out, it was still early. An old man climbed down the hill with a net full of fish between his hands, a younger man following him with two nets of the same variety. A woman a little way down was humming as she picked vegetables from her garden. There was even a young boy tottering after his pet cat, but he returned to the garden when his mother called him.

It was all too peaceful. Had the war not even reached here?Of course it had to of, The Fire Nation was everywhere nowadays, Zuko figured. But this place seemed remote. Looking up he saw that the great trees surrounding the village also offered a canopy. There was protection everywhere. Zuko vaguely wondered how deep his uncle had taken him into the Earth Nation… probably very, knowing good ole Uncle Iroh.

A low growl brought Zuko from his thoughts. Looking to his immediate right, he saw that a hound-like fox had stepped onto the porch, and with ivory teeth barred, it was making its way towards him. Black with white eyes, it was menacing. Its tail split in two at the beginning, the pair swishing back and forth, the only sound the creature made when it moved.

"Gimorri! Gimorri! Where? Oh…"

Naomi walked onto the porch, her staff in one hand and a satchel in the other; "Gimorri, leave our guest alone," she said as she walked over and picked the beast up. It nuzzled her, and seemed to emit a purr.

Zuko just sat there, trying to figure out what the hell the thing was. Naomi caught him staring; "She's a Nyo'Ei, Zuko," she replied, setting the satchel inside the house and closing the door. She sat Gimorri down, and the beast darted over to the stoop of the hut. She looked at Naomi with wide eyes, as if wanting to go.

Zuko got up slowly; "Thank-you… for the clothing," he said, readjusting his sling.

Naomi nodded once, slow recognition; "Will you walk with me?" she asked, motioning to the world beyond the porch.

Before Zuko could reply Naomi began walking, and he followed her. Gimorri trailed behind them, darting off soon after due to short attention span. Zuko whipped around when she did, and caught up with Naomi to walk with her side by side.

"So…" Zuko said; "What is this village called? What tribe does it belong to?"

"It has no name and no tribe," Naomi said, looking at Zuko; "We are neutral. Completely."

"Is there another village like this?" Zuko asked, and Naomi shook her head; "Well… what about politics? What do you do about that?"

"Democracy is our way," Naomi said; "Well, I suppose you could call it that. See, accordingly, the villagers choose who they think is fit to lead them. There are three positions of leadership here."

"Choose? How?" Zuko asked.

"Voting, a show of hands," She shrugged; "There hasn't been one for quite a while. The same three men have led the village for years now…" she looked off for a moment, then looked at Zuko; "What is your government like? I know it is a monarchy, but perhaps there's more?"

"Not really," Zuko said; "There's a little deception in the army, but other than that… Wait, why would you want to know that?"

Naomi shrugged; "Conversation's sake," she said; "Here, follow me."

And suddenly she had jumped into the forest, and with a groan Zuko followed her. Though she didn't travel fast it was hard to follow her in the dense underbrush proved difficult. Eventually he simply started burning things out of his way, but she rounded on his in an instant.

"You can't do that!" she said fiercely; "Even if it is to clear your way, this forest cannot be destroyed. The village could lose its cover."

Zuko clenched his hand into a fist, glaring as she turned. Without any other choice, he made his way through the forest.

But for all his inner grumbling, they came across a path. Zuko heaved a sigh, then asked indignantly; "Where are you taking me?"

"Not taking, leading," Naomi corrected; "It is a place where we can talk, and a place where you can see."

Her speech was together yet broken; as if she was speaking in riddles. At least this is how Zuko saw it, and it infuriated him. She was becoming more and more like his uncle, though more fierce and hardened. Why was she so nice to him now when the night before she had been seething with anger towards him? Perhaps she was just being loyal to the old man. Or maybe she was a mess, Zuko could tell. He did not know how stable she was, if she was stable at all. But she seemed intelligent, but emotionally driven. Two things that did not always go well hand in hand.

After a time of silent walking he began to see a parting in the trees. The sun light poured out of the cut, and as they stepped out into it, Zuko never felt more alive. After a moment of bathing in the glorious light, he realized that they were at the top of a rolling, grassy and steep hill. Beyond, land. Endless land, rolling mountains, hills, valleys and streams. Everything seemed untouched, pure. But then he saw a large city not too far off on the horizon. Dark, towering, and looming… it was threatening to this peaceful oasis.

Zuko turned when Naomi sat down, Gimorri coming out of the woodwork to dark down the hill, chasing bugs and small mammals. Naomi looked at him expectantly as she leaned back into the grass. Zuko, taking the hint, joined her.

"What are we doing here?" he asked impatiently.

Naomi looked out, towards the horizon, merely gazing; "Would you want this ruined?" she asked quietly.

Zuko looked out as well; "Not really," he replied. "It's beautiful."

Naomi emitted a small laugh that could have been mistaken for a gleeful sigh; "Of course it is," she said; "It's natural. It's how its supposed to be. Why shouldn't it be beautiful?"

"What are you getting at, Girl?" he asked, glancing at her with a dark impatience.

Naomi shot him a glare to rival his own, and that meant danger for the Prince. But she quickly clamed and looked out at the great expanse in reverie; "The Fire Nation occupies that place," she said, implying the city; "And they're edging ever closer."

"So? Why is that a problem?" Zuko asked.

"It means we're being closer to being found out," she said; "Think about how happy that would make that damn Admiral Zhao, to find a village of renegades and rebels…"

"_Oh really_?" Zuko asked; "It seemed like an everyday village to me… nothing to worry about," he paused; "Can we talk of other things? This bores me…"

He lay down and stretched out, while otherwise Naomi sat up and stared down at him; "How is war _boring_ to you?"

"Because I have been _raised_ in it," Zuko said; "I have become _numb_ to it," he looked at her; "I'm the fucking Fire Prince for gods' sakes…"

"True," she said, lying back down.

Zuko was stunned. That answer had satisfied her. He sat up and looked at her, and realized that her eyes were locked on the sky. "So…" Zuko said; "What's with the bandages? Got something to hide?" he smirked when she looked at him.

"In a way," she said; "Why?"

Zuko shrugged; "Well it's not something I come across often, at least to this degree," he paused; "You take care of the fabric, so it must be important."

Naomi looked away; "It's identity," she replied simply; "Besides, these come off only in battle…"

"Oh, so you're a 'warrior', are you?" Zuko asked, snickering as he looked away; "You should meet this one buffoon who calls himself a 'warrior'…"

"Well this staff is not for harvesting," Naomi said, picking the afore mentioned object up; "This blade was from the Northern Water tribe, the wood, from your nation…" her eyes glazed over in reverie; "and the wax and rosin that holds it all together, from this very forest…"

"What, no air bender to polish it?" Zuko asked sarcastically; "Sorry, it slipped;" He said when he saw her hurt glare. He was one for gall, but did not delight in hurting others with his words, unless they deserved it. And Naomi had not deserved it.

"No, it's fine," she said, looking away.

Naomi lay down, and Zuko followed her; "So… have you always lived here?" he asked.

"No," Naomi replied; "I traveled with my parents for a while…"

"And who were they?" Zuko asked.

Naomi looked at him; "Why would you care?" she asked plainly.

Zuko shrugged; "I'm curious as to why you are the way you are," he replied; "Besides, everyone has a Nation, and I can't identify yours."

"Well that's probably because I'm four in the same," Naomi said; "My mother was of the Water and Air Tribe. My father, Earth and Fire."

"But… the last of the Air Tribe were… were killed," Zuko said, voice going from uncertainty to shamed realization; "How could…"

"My Grandfather was just a child when his temple was attacked. He and his mother escaped some seventy years ago and she raised him here."

"Can he air bend?" Zuko asked with child-like interest, briefly letting down his harsh prince persona.

Naomi shook her head; "If he could he hasn't in ages. I've only seen him do it a few times…"

"Oh…" Zuko said; "So are your parents here, in the village?"

Naomi looked away; "No, they're not," she said.

Zuko could imagine what had happened, and more than likely his Nation's army had something to do with it; "The Fire Nation had something to do with it, didn't they?"

"The Fire Nation has its hand in everything, Hell Fire," Naomi said; "Your question is rhetorical."

"I see," Zuko said; "You want to know why I need to capture the Avatar, and bring him to my father?"

"So you can be accepted back into your kingdom for your Right to Heir?" Naomi replied.

"Yes," Zuko said; "So that I can stop things like what happened to you from happening to others. I don't' agree with my father, and I don't like it that My Nation is getting a bad reputation over one man's greed."

"Such is the way of kings, Zuko," Naomi said wisely; "But I hope you break the mold."

Zuko blinked. That had probably been the most sincerely honest thing she had said, on her own. "I hope so too," he said.

He was not sure if the objective of this walk had been reached, but the peaceful feild was a spot he was not upset about being at.

* * *

There was a ringing in his ears. A distant, but loud ringing none the less echoed in his ears. As he opened his eyes his world spun, his head ached, and his vision blurred. With a groan he sat up, and looked around. A room, simple, yet somehow homey. The door was open partly. The smell of soup filtered through the cut. Should he go and see? He could hear humming, and that was just as inviting. It was mellow, calm, and innocent. Getting onto his feet, he exited the room.

* * *

Atobai looked up from the soup he was cooking; "Ah, so you're awake, Young Avatar. Come, sit."

Aang looked around slowly; "Where am I?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"In my home, of course," Atobai replied; "I am Atobai. Several of us found you and your friends out in the storm. You are lucky to be awake. Are you hungry? I am making fresh vegetable soup. I was going to make trout soup, but you're more than likely a vegetarian…"

Aang smiled, thankful for the man's consideration. He sat down and Atobai gave him a bowl of soup. Aang sipped on it, studying his surroundings. Finally, after a time, he asked; "How did you know who I was?"

Atobai smiled; "I recognize one of the last living Air Benders. You can call it instinct," he replied.

"Really?" Aang said; "Wait… how would you know?"

Atobai tapped Aang's wrist, the tip of the arrow, and then tapped his own bandaged arm; "I know," he said.

Aang's eyes widened; "You're an Air Bender too?" he asked.

"Of sorts, yes," Atobai replied; "But first tell me this. What were you and your friends doing out in such weather? It was dangerous."

Aang lowered his head; "I thought I could handle it," he said, looking up; "Katara and Sokka are okay, aren't they?"

"Well of course, sleeping soundly, last time I checked," Atobai said; "They're in the same room as you. We just set up curtains for added privacy. Are they of the water tribe?"

"Yeah, and Katara can bend," Aang said; "what about Momo? And Appa?"

"Your pets? In the stables," Atobai said; "the lemur needed extra attention, so I left him with a reliable friend."

"Oh… okay," Aang sipped his soup; "This is really good!" he said with a smile.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it!" Atobai said; "Sometimes my granddaughter would disagree with that!" he laughed good-naturedly, but it was heartfelt. He could not look at the boy and not think that he was just that: a boy. Not the avatar, not an air bender; just a child.

"Atobai, may I see your tattoos?" Aang suddenly asked; "Just to be sure…"

Atobai smiled and set his bowl down; "Of course," he said, pulling back the billowing sleeve of his shirt. He pulled the bandage loose, and began to unwrap his arm. Aang's eyes widened as he saw the faint, tale-tale point of the arrow, and then the bar. Atobai was an actual member of the Air tribe.

"I don't believe it," Aang said; "I thought… I thought I was the last one!"

Atobai smiled as he began to rewrap his arm; "Well, my mother was very cunning," he said; "She protected me."

Suddenly a thought popped into Aang's head; "How old are you?"

"Right now? Hmm… good question," Atobai said, suddenly deep in thought. He really hadn't been counting the years. " I suppose I'm about ninety-five or so," he said, smiling; "But I sure don't look it!"

He really didn't. Aang wondered if it was luck, or good genetics, but Atobai looked no more than fifty-five, or sixty tops. "No, you don't," Aang said.

Awkward silence followed. Aang was not sure what to say; Atobai wasn't willing to say anything. What could he say? Perhaps if he discussed something light; "So… can you perform any tricks with your gift?"

Aang's face glowed and he smiled. Someone wanted to see he tricks! Setting his bowl down, he excitedly said; "Yeah! Watch this!" he pulled out three marbles from his pockets, and holding them in between his palms, he then manipulated the air into making them spin about madly. Atobai found it to be entertaining and laughed as they zoomed about the room. Aang laughed too, happy not to be annoying anyone.

"Hey," Aang suddenly said; "Atobai…"

Atobai looked up, "Yes?" he asked.

Aang sat down his bowl, and looked up; "Are there any… of _us_ left?"

Atobai knew that by "us" the child was talking about other members of the Air Tribe. Sadly, he could offer the Avatar no hope; "Not that I know of, Aang," he replied quietly; "But, I am always searching, listening, and waiting for one to come about."

Aang nodded, looking down; "I just thought that, since you were still alive, then maybe others would be too."

"There may very well be, Aang, we may never know," Atobai said; "You can never be too certain."

Just then Iroh came in, his arms full with various little trinkets he had collected on his outing, and he was very happy with what he had found; "Atobai, I met the most lovely woman…!" he began, but his attitude faltered when he saw Aang staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Oh, good, you're here!" Atobai said; "Aang, this is Iroh, he's—"

"I know who he is," Aang said lowly; "Does this mean Zuko's here too?" he asked, looking at Atobai.

"Well, yes, recovering," Atobai replied, "I know you have you're history with him, Aang, but this place is a place of peace. I will not tolerate anything between you two, no matter how hard it may be to resist the urge to fight."

"He's been chasing me around the world!" Aang said, jumping up; "If he sees me, then he'll burn this place to the ground to try and catch me!"

"You would be surprised, Young one," Iroh said as he sat his things down; "My Nephew has matured a great deal since you two last had your encounter."

"Yeah, he had tied me op and was going to take me off to the Fire Nation!"

"Ah, yes, but you escaped, and saved him from the elements," Iroh commented; "I trust your maturity will not falter either."

He had a point. And Aang knew it. Pouting he sat back down to finish his soup, mumbling nonsense about Princes, maturity and Fire balls. Atobai chuckled at this, then handed Iroh a bowl as the old General sat down.

"So, what woman did you meet?"

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

Please review! 


	3. The Festival

**A/N:** well, another chapter. i liked the two reviews, but I'd appriciate more!

Disclaimer: I do not own nickelodeon; so therefore, I own none of their creations. Damn.

I've drawn a few more things. Check the profile, click the link.

**Without A Nation**

**Part one: Weakness**

Chapter Three: The Festival

Katara woke with a start, sitting up quickly and causing blood to rush to her head. She swayed as he vision blurred and she moaned hand going to her head. She felt a bandage instead of skin, and freaked. Letting out a silent scream, she scrambled to her feet and saw she was not where she had thought she would be. _Curtains_? She thought, _oh no, I've been captured!_ She pulled back the curtains and saw her brother. Dropping to her knees, she began to shake her brother, whispering for him to wake.

Finally, Sokka began to mumble and move on his own accord, eventually shying away from her nervous hands; "What's wrong…?" he mumbled, opening one eye, barely. When he found his surroundings to be manmade, both eyes snapped open andhe looked around; "What… what's going on?"

"I don't know, Sokka, I thin we've been captured!" Katara said feverishly; "Where's Aang?"

"I… Aang? Aa--!" Sokka cried, but Katara covered his mouth.

"SHHH!" she said fiercely, eyeing him; "Calm down!" when he nodded she retreated, holding her hands in her lap as she looked around; "Doesn't seem like a prison…"

"Don't let it fool you," Sokka ground out, glaring at the door; "Where's my…" he began, but to his surprise, he found his belongings in a neat pile on the opposite side of the room. "That's strange," Sokka said as he gathered his things in his arms; "If we're being held captive… why leave my weapon?" he looked at his sister.

"Maybe… we're _not_?" Katara asked, rising.

She went to the door, and slowly slid it open. The smell of stew wafted in, and immediately Sokka was cured of his wariness. Katara saw an elderly man tossing chopped vegetables into the stew, while he laughed good-naturedly.

"Oh, that was a time, getting that beast down!" the elderly man said through his mirth; "Of course, it took your prowess to render it harmless."

"Well, fire in itself is very persuasive…"

Katara gasped at the other voice. Eyes darting around, she saw the back of General Iroh by the door, the afore mentioned man facing the world outside.

"Ah, young water maiden, I am pleased to see you've risen!"

Katara looked at the elderly man timidly; "Wh-what's going on?" she asked, "Who are you?"

"And what's he doing here?" Sokka barked, having seen Iroh.

Iroh abruptly turned, frowning; "That is no way to speak in the house of the man that saved your hides," he ground out.

"Oh, it's fine, Iroh," the elderly man said with a sigh, rising steadily. He walked over and held out his hand to Katara; "I am Atobai, resident tribesman of this village. And you are…?"

"Katara," she replied slowly, not returning the gesture.

Atobai let his hand fall and stepped back; "Care for some stew? It's fresh, with fish from the stream."

"Sure!" Sokka said, pushing past his sister and sitting down on a pillow.

"That's Sokka," Katara said; "Um… where is Aang?"

"Oh, well… hmmm," Atobai pursed his lips in thought; "I don't know, really. He stepped out for air not but an hour or so ago…"

"What!" Sokka cried, spitting out the soup that had been in his mouth.

"We have to find him!" Katara said, getting up; "We'll come back, though," she assure Atobai at his worried expression.

"Be careful, stay in the village's perimeters!" Atobai called, and then, he sighed.

"I'm a brooder!" he said joking, rubbing his brow.

Iroh chuckled; "Oh my, how many now, five?" he asked with another light laugh.

* * *

Aang hadn't stayed in the house long once Iroh had come. He had exited to find Momo, and Appa. As he walked through the village, he was surprised that no one paid him any mind. A glance, perhaps two, but that was all the Avatar received. In a way, he was deeply thankful for it. Aang found the resident silence of the village a comfort as well. This relaxing downtime was much needed. 

He finally came across a large, dome-shaped stable. Inside, there were stalls all around the sides, mostly filled with horses that would scrape at the doors with the hooves and snort at the imprisonment. Aang saw Momo and Appa in the center, atop a pile of hay, Appa slumbering while Momo nibbled on a peach. But at the sight of Aang, the flying lemur left his meal and with a squeal flew at Aang. Aang laughed as he caught Momo in a gracious hug.

"Hey, little guy!" Aang said, smiling as he looked at Momo; "How ya bin?"

Momo growled and emitted other sounds as he climbed onto Aang's shoulder; "Wanna go exploring?" he asked, and Momo chirruped in agreement.

After checking on Appa, Aang left and began walking around the village. Nothing was out of the ordinary. There were not that many children, most were toddlers and younger that Aang. Their mothers watched them with serene anxiety; content with the safety of the village, yet disheartened by past events. Aang noticed the general lack of men, as well.

But then he came to the field past the village. There were four rows of five, all men, training with swords, with three men at the head of the group. They all moved in time with each other, emitting sounds of power at each change in exercise. Transfixed, Aang sat down to watch. How the swords gleamed in the sun, how they never wavered. It was an art, of sorts, a rhythmic dance of time and tradition. But it was deadly, Aang knew.

These men were training for war.

Aang noticed one boy who must have been no older than thirteen, Aang's age. He was in the front row, with his face set in such seriousness his age could have been mistaken right at that moment. His dark hair was held back merely by a green headband, his clothing, too large, billowing around him. What struck Aang as odd was the boy's sword; it was nearly as long as all the others', and they were easily at least five to thirty years older than he was.

Then, the session ended. The group bowed to their teachers, and sheathed their swords. And steadily, they men began acting human. As they all separated to go their ways, laughter and chatter became evident in the air. Aang noticed the boy walking his way, up the path, and rushed to greet him.

"Hey!" Aang said; "That was really cool! I'm Aang, what's your name?"

His exuberance had the boy taken aback slightly; "I'm Alec," he replied; "Are you… the Avatar?" he gasped, eyes wide.

"Um, yeah," Aang said, looking down for a moment. Then he was looking up and excitedly; "Hey, what was the sword training about?"

"Oh, that?" Alec asked, thumbing at the now empty field; "We do that every afternoon. It's just 'precautionary', Atobai calls it so."

"Oh," Aang said, nodding; "Hey, wanna go play? I'm sure you're bored of work!"

"No, not really," Alec said as he began walking. The tip of the sheath left a tiny line along the ground as he did.

Crestfallen, Aang hurried to catch up; "Really? Not even for a little bit?"

"Nope," Alec said; "I have to help my mother, anyway. Do you want to help me though? She'd like that."

"Uh, sure!"

As they walked, they talked of the village, and of Aang's travels. Alec was curious about the outside world, about the lands across the oceans, and Aang was happy to nourish his friend's imagination. But as they neared the houses at the top of the hill, Alec suddenly smiled widely and broke into a run.

"NAOMI!" he cried; "NAOMI!"

Aang looked ahead, and saw the girl who had been humming from earlier. But also with her was Prince Zuko. Aang slowed drastically.

Naomi smiled and laughed as she opened her arms to hug Alec; "Hello, Alec!" she said, ruffling his hair as they parted; "How was training?"

"It was good! Mohan is getting sloppy, though!" Alec replied. Suddenly, his face fell apathetic as he looked at Zuko. And steadily, he glared.

"Alec, this is a guest of our village, Prince Zuko," Naomi said.

"I know who he is," Alec muttered; "What do you want here?" he asked the Prince sharply.

"Nothing," Zuko replied flatly; "Just a safe place to rest up."

Aang finally reached them. Naomi looked at him and smiled; "Ah, Avatar, good to see you up!" she said; "Did you rest well?"

"Yeah, I did, thanks," Aang said, eyes never leaving Zuko.

"What brings you here, _Avatar_?" Zuko asked in a wavering tone as he tried to keep it from rising in volume and intensity.

"Same as _you_, I guess," Aang replied lowly; "The storm, mostly."

"It was a bad storm," Naomi quipped in an effort to displace the tension; "Were you showing Aang around?" she asked Alec.

"Sorta," Alec said, then he ushered for Naomi to bend down so he could whisper in his ear; "_My brother sent us a scroll the other day_."

Naomi gasped; "Really?" she asked, looking at him, searching for a joke.

But the child spoke true, and he nodded; "He escaped! He's on his way!"

Zuko eyed the two, unsure of what they were saying. The young boy was an obvious member of the Earth Nation, judging by his complexion and clothing. He eagerly spoke of someone, and the news delighted Naomi. With a shrug that went unnoticed, the Prince stared Aang down again. The Avatar was unmoving, acting on the same impulse to best him n

Naomi smiled, "That makes my day complete!" she exclaimed; "I must go tell my grandfather! Zuko, come on!"

The Prince finally broke his staring match with the Avatar, and followed her. Alec shook his head and crossed his arms as he glared at the Prince's retreating back.

"He better not move in on Naomi," Alec muttered as they continued on; "First, she won't allow it, and second, my brother would bury him so far down, he'd be in Hell."

"Does your brother like Naomi that much?" Aang asked.

"Yeah, and he can Bend," Alec said; "Well, come on in!" he said as they stopped outside a hut; "Mother's making food for the festival tonight!"

"…Festival?"

* * *

"Grandfather, Grandfather!" 

Atobai jumped, standing quickly as Naomi came rushing into the garden; "Oh my, Naomi!" he said with a laugh; "Kill your old grandfather, won't you? What has you smiling so?"

Zuko left her to tell her grandfather as he went to the porch to sit with Iroh; "What's got her so wound up?" Iroh asked, and Zuko shrugged.

"Hell if I know," Zuko replied, settling down/

"Omaru, he is coming!" Naomi said as she jumped up and down.

Atobai frowned; "Really? That trouble maker!" he mumbled; "I told you I didn't want you to have anything to do with that boy! He's not but a thorn to your side, Naomi!"

"But grandpa! He's _coming_!" Naomi insisted; "He sent a scroll, he said he had escaped, that he was returning—!"

"Aye, and who's to say he doesn't have the Fire Nation on his tail?" Atobai snapped; "He's always been the sort for such attention!"

Naomi stilled, frowning; "Can you not be happy that one of our own is returning?"

"He has never truly been _one of our own_, Naomi," Atobai said; "He never took the right of passage. He never admitted his loyalty."

"For that is his way, to be unhindered," Naomi said quietly.

"Do you think, then, that he would let a _young woman_ hinder him?"

Naomi was quite; "Love knows no bounds, grandpa," she said after a time; "He… he bears our symbols though, on his arm…"

"His _one_ arm," Atobai stated, then he relented with a grumble; "He never took the _entire_ right of passage."

"Circumstances forced him to stop…" Naomi said in her quiet, rebellious way.

Atobai frowned; "We will speak no more of this," he said, and then, he smiled kindly, a way to move over the tension; "The festival is tonight. Shouldn't you prepare?"

Naomi's hand clenched into a fist, and she bowed her head in respect before walking away.

"Festival?" Zuko asked, having heard the conversation between grandfather and daughter.

"Oh, it's an extravagant affair, and a fun one at that!" Iroh replied; "You'll see."

* * *

When evening befell the village, they retreated into the confines of the forest. The entire village was then settled in a large clearing. They had previously dined and drank, and now awaited for something spectacular. 

Zuko sat beside Iroh and Atobai, Aang on the old man's other side. Katara sat next to him, and then, Sokka. Naomi was nowhere to be seen, but then she could be sitting elsewhere. But her fierce loyalty to her grandfather told him that was likely not the cause.

When everyone had settled and stilled, Atobai slowly rose to his feet, free without a cane. He strode to the center, tall and proud. With the charismatic, contagious smile of his, his voice echoed throughout the clearing as he spoke, powerful and ringing true.

"Brethren, welcome!" he began; "Tonight we honor our gods and the spirits, our forefathers and our ancestral beings. Tonight, we will honor these beings through song and dance, and prose. Now, I give you…" Zuko saw him reach into a pocket, but in a flash it was as if his hand had not moved. With a nostalgic laugh Atobai jumped up and threw down what occupied his palm, and suddenly he burst into flame.

The crowd gasped in horror and surprise. Zuko was even shocked. He had readied to rise when suddenly he smelt sulfur at his side and Atobai was sitting down. But Zuko's attention was drawn elsewhere as the sound of drums exploded from everywhere. The drummers came from the forest, chanting to the beats their hands produced. Two girls bounded over them, cart wheeling and jumping. Dressed in bright colors, mostly orange and red, with bangles on their wrists and ankles they danced around the bonfire Atobai had left behind.

Together they began to paint a tail, and Zuko realized that their movements depicted flashes of Fire Nation history. When the girls were through, they disappeared in a gush of smoke. And in their wake, three young men dressed in blues and blacks did the same. Their faces painted in the art of war, they fought and danced in a timeless manner. After them, another maid in green. She seemed to glide across the ground, her dress gracing the ground and her movements fluid, and steady.

But when the maiden had finished her dance, the drums stopped, and the fire somehow dwindled to mere embers. There was to be no show for the Air Nation, Zuko realized. _My people…_ he thought with guilt, looking over and seeing Atobai and Aang both to have bowed their heads in somber reality. He too, lowered his gaze, ashamed. _I will rectify this one day_, he vowed silently. Avatar or no, there had been no reason for such genocide.

**THUMP.**

A single, long note echoed through the clearing as the drummers all beat at once. Then, again.

**THUMP.**

Zuko looked up, wondering what was going on. That was supposed to be it. His eyes darted around as the drumbeat increased, ominous and laced with tension. Powerful, enigmatic… a slew of descriptions filled his head, but none could get quite as accurate as _memorial_. Through the smoke, there was light, as two women made their way through the crowds, bearing lanterns with lightening bugs and other insects that produced a glow. Solemn, regal, beautiful, they placed the lanterns side by side in the ashes of the fire. Then, their movements turned deadly fierce. Suddenly swords were in their hands and they were dancing a routine forged on the battlefield.

_These women were warriors._

Zuko saw the tattoos along their arms and torsos, harsh contrasts to their skin. Breathtakingly complicated they seemed, no, they were. Transfixed, he along with the others watched with bated breaths. With each fall the women's feet took, the drums would match in harsh compliance, loud and demanding.

And then another figure jumped into the fray. Clad in black cloths that covered her chest and hips, and then flowed elegantly around, having two shields in her hands was Naomi. She jumped between the clashing warriors, shields catching the swords. A resounding clang ensued, and the clearing was deathly quiet.

Aang watched with wide eyes, waiting. He had grasped the stories the performers told through their art, and now he clung desperately for the ending. He watched as Naomi lowered the shields, the blades falling with her. The women had faces of surprise and mild outrage, but Naomi merely kept her head bowed. Steadily, the drums picked up again. Slow, unsure, they rose. The older women laid their blades on the grown, and Naomi laid her shields down as well. They backed away from them, and the two women began to dance around, matching the beat of the drums with the ways they moved their hands and the moments when they feet touched and left the ground. Naomi, in her persona, seemed unsure as to whom to follow, who to mimic. So, she combined the moves of both women, soon mastery the arts before her.

Their dance was captivating. The drummers were so intent with this piece.

"What's it all mean?" Aang whispered to Atobai, now confused.

Atobai grinned, and leaning down he replied softly; "These three women represent our way of life. A woman brings new life into the world. She is strong and able to carry the burdens of her family. She is compassionate and understanding. And when she is a warrior, she is deadly, able to defend her life and others. She responds well with change, and knows her place when it comes to power and will.

"And that is who we are, Aang." Atobai finished; "We wish new life into the world of our Nation, we are willing to carry its burdens. We grasp every view and concept. And we will fight to defend such a change."

The dance drew to a close with the women bounding away and leaving Naomi with a single lantern. She held it in her hands, and closing her eyes, she blew the flame out. The drums died as well, echoes of their heartbeats lingering like the smoke. After a time, the crowd cheered. Naomi backed away from the circle, disappearing in the dark, and quickly another bonfire was lit. Atobai sprang up, and laughing he took to the center.

"What a spectacular ceremony!" He exclaimed; "Now, we will adjourn for the evening, but you may all feel free to stay behind and continue in the festivities…!"

As Atobai continued, Zuko slipped away. He carefully made his way down a path; sure it would take him back to the village. He had gotten a headache from all of the drumming. Not that it was a bad show or anything; Zuko was just a fan of quiet, when it was available. The show had made him think, though…

As he began to quietly pick his way through the underbrush, he realized that he had ventured to the edge of the forest; he had gone the wrong way. Groaning and cursing under his breath Zuko found himself out in the clearing, standing just before the hill began to tumble downward. He kicked at the grass, but as he began to turn and venture back into the undergrowth, he heard talking. Dropping down, he used cunning stealth to creep up on the conversation.

"I came back, for you." A voice that was convincingly male, young and tired.

"I know…" unmistakably, Naomi. So soft and insecure.

"Then why…?"

"You should keep going. You're not safe here."

"Keep going? This is the safest place I know! And I have three others with me! Three people being hunted by the Fire Nation! They need to be here more than anything. I need to be here…"

"But… the village, I... _you_…!"

Zuko edged closed, looking over the tall grass, and he saw the two. Naomi was standing aside, facing the open land with her arms crossed. Behind her was a young man, tall and well built. He had shaggy, untamed hair, some pulled back into a loose ponytail but most hanging around his eyes, obscuring most of his face. He wore clothing travel worn and tattered; a simple, sleeveless tunic, pants tucked into knee-high boots. Zuko saw the glint of a sword in the moonlight.

Suddenly, the young man seemed frustrated; "Naomi, look!" he suddenly said, holding up a fist. Zuko saw a bandaged forearm. Naomi gasped when she turned and saw.

"Omaru…what…?" she asked, watching as he unraveled the bandages.

The young man, Omaru, finished, and clutched the bandages in one hand, while he held out an upturned wrist to Naomi. "I did this for _you_, for the _village_," he said quietly yet full of emotion; "I was _beaten_ for it, _tortured_, _threatened_… I nearly _died_ for this!" he paused, watching as Naomi traced the fine, dark lines of the tattoos; "This is what I fight for. See? Look on my wrist…"

Naomi gasped again; "My…my _name_?"

Omaru nodded; "When I… when I left, I found a tattooist to finish it. He… he asked me if he should put something symbolic," he laughed half-heartedly, "He didn't understand it, I didn't tell him its story. I replied 'I no not what would make this complete', and then… I thought of you, standing here, watching for me. I told him to put your name on my wrist."

"Omaru, do you realize what you've done?" Naomi gasped; suddenly away form his as if he was diseased.

"I know exactly what I _did_, Naomi," Omaru said testily; "I put hope into my skin! Yeah, your name isn't part of a ritual, you do not share the name of any deity…" he stepped closer, turned her around and stared at her. "This tattoo symbolizes strength, and loyalty. It symbolizes commitment and passion, residence to everything that may oppose its purpose. And _I_ am that to _you_, Naomi."

Naomi seemed heartbroken; "Why?" she whispered.

Omaru stepped even closer; "I could not come up with the right words, the reality leaves me speechless."

Zuko wanted to gag. It had to be one of the most poignant, tragic love scenes he had ever bore witness to. Not that he was supposed to be seeing this. It was entertaining though. Omaru's arrival was bound to stir up drama of some kind, and Zuko would stay out of it. But he was curious about the other teen's origins, and why he spoke so bitterly of his recent adventures.

Naomi's eyes shown with tears, and quickly as the fell, Omaru wiped them away. Zuko wanted to leave, but now he was too close, it would be too easy to be heard, to be spotted. Inwardly groaning, he settled into the grass.

The two merely stood together then, studied each other. Finally, Naomi looked down; "You must hide this," she said quietly, taking the bandages and beginning to hide the tattoos; "Not even I had the right to see them now…"

"And here you stand, bearing all you hide," Omaru said quietly.

Zuko had to agree, he had a point. Naomi was still in her ceremonial clothing, her arms and torso revealed. Eyes trailing down, Zuko saw she had a tattoo on her ankle and trailing up her calf as well… he assumed that there was another like it on her other leg.

Zuko rolled his eyes and lay down, settling in for a long wait. But to his surprise, there was silence. Zuko frowned and stared up at the twinkling sky. The spirits must be laughing now, he thought. Sighing, he closed his eyes…

But they snapped open as someone kicked him hard in the side, rolling him over. Zuko was lost for breath; "Omaru, it's the Fire Prince!" his attacker called.

Zuko looked up in time to see that a Teen Earth Bender stood over him, a rock floating in the air above his hand. The teen looked familiar, vaguely. Omaru was quickly upon the scene, Naomi as well.

"Omaru, no!" Naomi was saying; "He is a guest to our village!"

"He's a damned spy, that's what he is!" the Earth Bender said angrily, the rock wobbly dangerously with a sudden charge of emotion from its wielder.

"Haru, if Naomi says so, then he is," Omaru said. Then, he turned his gaze to Zuko; "You've heard much of what you shouldn't have, _Prince_."

How he said the title with such scorn and disdain made Zuko's blood boil. He got up, eyeing the teen; "Well I was walking back to the village and I got lost. I heard the talking and panicked."

"Lie," Haru said; "You've been lying there for nearly half an hour! I've watched you! I didn't make a move until I knew who you were."

Zuko stared undauntedly at Haru; "You accuse me of eavesdropping on such a private moment?" he asked.

"Yes," Haru replied strongly, not backing down.

Zuko did not look away; "Then you are mistaken," his gaze softened when he looked at Naomi; "Would you kindly take me to the village? I think I'm lost."

Naomi nodded, and then looked at Omaru; "Please, stay here for the night," she said quietly; "Are there any others with you?"

"No, just Haru and myself," Omaru said; "Naomi, at least let us escort you…" he gaze drifted to Zuko, cold and unforgiving.

"Omaru, I will be fine," she said; "Now go, before the villagers see you."

"Tomorrow morning, I will come home, Naomi."

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

a/n: well, review? 


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